" The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. “It isn’t fair. He ventured to the great gates, and by inserting his gimblets into the wood at intervals, so as to form points upon which he could rest his foot, he contrived, to ascend them; and when at the top, having fastened a portion of his dress to the spikes, he managed, not without considerable risk, to draw up his female companion. She noticed an odd new gleam in Michelle’s eyes, a focus she had not noticed before. Breakfast, too, was an impossible occasion. Lucy did not move, but instead stared straight forward, her eyes focused on the desk where the presiding teacher on duty was supposed to be. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. A world of haystacks, bean-stacks, and strawricks flanked the granges adjoining his habitation; the yard was crowded with poultry, pigeons were feeding at his feet, cattle were being driven towards the stall, horses led to the stable, a large mastiff was rattling his chain, and stalking majestically in front of his kennel, while a number of farming-men were passing and repassing about their various occupations. He had been hard since they had taken their clothes off. His throat filled; he wanted to weep. On searching the coat, he found, amongst other matters, a mask, a key, and a pocket-book. “But what are you going to do?” asked Hetty. .
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